


Player 1 Has Left the Game

by nojeromo



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, M/M, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Post-Squip Jeremy Heere, Post-Squip Rich Goranski, Sad Jeremy Heere, Save Me, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, all i can write is pining jeremy, anyways thats it, b o o f, boof rinse sounds cooler than boyf riends, jeremy is just a sad sad boi, just saying, pensive emoji, smh, this is a bit longer than i wanted it to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:39:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25754464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nojeromo/pseuds/nojeromo
Summary: Quickly fixating out his window, Jeremy contentedly spaced out, not aware of the loose smile that rested on his lips. His thoughts were repetitive, mainly different strands of words that were gushing about how wonderful it all was.Yeah, he was probably way too excited about this.--A one-shot set a year after the SQUIPcident, in which Michael brings Jeremy out for a trip to the Barcade. Little does Michael know, Jeremy is struggling with some somewhat newfound romantic feelings, and when Rich and Jake are invited along too, things only get worse from there.
Relationships: Jake Dillinger & Jeremy Heere, Jake Dillinger/Rich Goranski, Jeremy Heere & Michael Mell, Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell, Rich Goranski/Michael Mell
Kudos: 41





	Player 1 Has Left the Game

**Author's Note:**

> me before writing this: yeah, this'll only take a while to write, im guessing only about 3,000 words at the max
> 
> its a few hundred above ten thousand  
> someone save me  
> this wasn't supposed to take this long

Jeremy Heere was having a great day.

To anyone passing by, all they would see was a red PT Cruiser driving along the road. (Probably above the speed limit, he noted, but he decided that it wasn’t important.) What _was_ important to Jeremy was what someone _couldn’t_ see by glancing at the car; Michael and him. More specifically, Michael, and Jeremy’s feelings for him. 

Glancing subtly to his left, Jeremy felt a burst of fondness bloom inside his chest as he quietly admired his friend for the millionth time. He remembered the first few days when he had begun to suspect these feelings; he’d been confused as to why all Michael’s small details stuck out to him. The way his glasses never seemed to sit on his nose right, the goofy smirk he seemed to always wear, how he mercilessly doused his hair in hair spray to stop it from tumbling down into a fluffy mess, all of it. He bit his lip, self-conscious that he’d been staring for so long. Luckily, Michael didn’t seem to notice, either that or he assumed Jeremy was looking past him.

Quickly fixating out his window, Jeremy contentedly spaced out, not aware of the loose smile that rested on his lips. His thoughts were repetitive, mainly different strands of words that were gushing about how wonderful it all was. 

Yeah, he was probably way too excited about this. 

The car ride was silent, excluding the blasting of music that Michael insisted play every time. It was an awful mixtape he’d made back in Middle School. (Michael didn't necessarily... _agree_ with Jeremy's opinion about it being "awful," but there was no changing Jeremy's mind.)

As they drove on, Jeremy continued hazily daydreaming, watching out the window through half-lidded eyelids. It was nice. He didn’t have to worry about missing anything Michael said, or just in general missing something important. There wasn’t anything to miss. You’d think that friends such as Jeremy and Michael would chatter away, but for a long time, their rides had been undisturbed with little conversation. Jeremy could honestly care less. When he was with Michael, he felt safe. Wherever Michael ended up in the future, Jeremy swore to himself that he would be there with him.

Not that he would ever tell Michael that, of course. He’d probably make fun of him. 

“Where are we going, exactly?” Jeremy asked after a moment, seeing as Michael’s “mystery car ride” with no specified destination was starting to occupy his thoughts more than anything else. He adjusted himself in the seat so that he was lightly resting against the door and facing Michael diagonally.

Michael glanced at him, before mockingly furrowing his brows in irritation and turning his gaze back to the road. “I’m offended. Do you not like our _amazing_ car rides? Bold assumption that we’re even _going_ anywhere. I might as well drop you off the side of the highway and never look back.”

“Ouch.” Jeremy let out a dramatic sigh of pain, trying to keep himself from grinning. (To be honest, he was probably failing, but at least he tried.) “But seriously, where are we going? Because my legs are cramping and frankly, I’m going to get bored soon.”

It was sort of true, but when he noticed Michael giving him an intense glare (well, as much of a glare he could while driving) he rolled his eyes. “Not that I’m _truly_ enjoying this 30-minute drive together,” he scoffed teasingly.

The sides of Michael’s mouth twitched into a slight smile. “It’s a _surprise,_ ” he whispered, eyes widening for dramatic effect. After a brief pause, he gave Jeremy an unimpressed look. “And turn yourself back around, young man.”

Even though Jeremy longed to continue being fake-mad, even if he was horrid at it, the fondness in Michael’s eyes got to him. He mentally cursed his dumb feelings, unable to stop himself from grinning while sticking his tongue out. (To which he immediately regretted and chose to turn himself back around to the window as fast as he could.) 

Jeremy didn’t know how long it’d been when Michael finally pulled over, but it seemed to take forever. Or, maybe it hadn’t, but his intense spacing out and daydreaming had prolonged it. Or both.

“Dude, get up.” Michael’s voice snapped him out of his slight trance. Jeremy looked over to see Michael standing outside the car, fingers lightly resting on the door handle. Every few seconds, they'd tap a few times, as if he was impatient to get going. 

As Jeremy unbuckled, he glanced out the window to hopefully get a sense of where they were. He quickly recognized the building, although he was a bit confused. Not wanting to waste any more time just lounging in the car, he quickly opened the door and stepped out, glancing at Michael confusedly.

“I didn’t realize the Barcade was an hour-long trip,” he remarked, tapping his thin fingers on the car door. 

Michael blinked at him, not replying. After a moment, he closed his door and looked back at Jeremy. “I might have taken a few detours to make the trip longer,” he admitted grudgingly. When Jeremy only gave him another confused stare, he sighed, glancing behind his shoulder. “I should have kicked you out of my car when I had the chance,” he mumbled, “because if you don’t like our long car rides together, we can’t be friends anymore.”

Although his tone was light, and it was obvious by his words that it was a joke, Jeremy felt that Michael spoke some truth behind his words. He felt another fit of happy flutters in his gut when he realized that Michael had wanted to spend more time together in solitude. Fighting back a smile, he huffed, blowing a few stray hairs off his forehead. Needless to say, it didn’t do much, seeing as they just fell back down, but he didn't know what else to do, so he just went with it.

A moment later, Jeremy slammed his door shut, giving Michael a sudden scowl. “13 years of friendship and this is how it ends?”

Michael rolled his eyes, choosing not to engage more with this fake scenario they created. “By the way, I also invited Rich and Jake to come with us. They’re probably already inside,” he guessed sheepishly, glancing at the Barcade.

“Let’s hurry up, then,” Jeremy said tartly, speed-walking towards the doors. He wasn’t as upset as he made himself out to be; yeah, he was disappointed that it wasn’t _just_ him and Michael, but it’s not like he could do anything about it. He glanced back at Michael amusedly once he got to the entrance, not wanting his friend to genuinely think he was bothered.

A few seconds later, Michael was shoving open the doors, his lips curved up in a smile. Jeremy forced himself not to look at him as he scanned the large, dark room for Rich or Jake. The two had no sense of volume control, so he guessed it wouldn’t be too hard to find them.

As if on cue, he heard a yelp of excitement. “I _told_ you I’d be able to find quarters back here!” 

Although the entire place was loud, that voice stuck out in particular to the two. Jeremy sighed, finally allowing himself to glance back at Michael, who's face was only lit by the bright lights of the arcade screens. Shades of white and pink and blue seemed to dance across his skin, creating shimmers of color in the lenses of his glasses. The words Jeremy was about to speak seemed to get stuck in his throat, his face feeling unnaturally hot as he tried his best to not stare at his (unfairly gorgeous) best friend.

Michael, who was blissfully unaware of Jeremy’s gay panic, clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “Rich,” he sighed dryly. 

Jeremy was a bit uncomfortable with Michael’s expression. It wasn’t, like, _daydreamy_ or anything. He still had a somewhat sarcastic smirk, and his eyebrows were slightly raised expectantly, but it was just… Jeremy couldn’t put a finger on it. All he knew was that it made him unsettled. 

After a moment of him struggling to convince himself that he was just being paranoid-- why else would he make extra time with Jeremy and choose to lose time with the person he hypothetically liked? It wouldn't make any sense. 

(He wasn’t convinced; he was more so trying to convince himself that he was, indeed, convinced. It wasn’t working, but Michael provided a suitable distraction.)

“C’mon,” he chuckled, making his way over to where Rich’s loud cheer had emitted from. He recognized it as one of those large arcade games that you sat inside, usually accompanied by fake guns. Inside he saw Rich fiercely engaged in combat with whatever he was shooting--Jeremy couldn’t see--and Jake leaning back and watching him. 

A bit nervous, Jeremy was relieved that Michael spoke up to greet them. It was notably noisy in there, and although Michael did help him feel better, it still made his gut wrench slightly.

“Hey,” Michael said, eyeing the two boys casually. A part of Jeremy was all too aware of how his gaze lingered on Rich for a somewhat prolonged amount of time, but he quickly shook it off without a second thought. 

Although Rich didn’t look up, he grinned. “Finally showed up, huh?” He paused, taking a moment to focus on the game. He furrowed his brow and a glimpse of his tongue stuck out as he quickly shot at what looked like a dinosaur. (This later made sense to Jeremy when he saw the game seemed to be a Jurassic Park themed shooter.) 

They stood in silence, which was foreign compared to the silence Jeremy and Michael previously shared in the car. While they were comfortable in each other’s company, this felt a bit more strained and awkward as they waited for Rich to finish. Jeremy decided to use his time to focus on Jake, who hadn’t said anything. It was noticeably unlike him.

Even in the dim lighting, Jeremy could see that he kept glancing over at Rich. After a moment, he realized that there was some sort of pattern to his gaze. Two to five seconds on Rich, then quickly flit over to Michael for a moment or two. Then back to nowhere in particular, and back to Rich again. He frowned slightly, surprised Jake hadn’t noticed that he was also being stared at. After a moment, Jeremy felt his eyes widen as he grasped a conclusion to his odd behavior.

Was he jealous? He _definitely_ wasn’t gawking over Michael like he was with Rich.

He felt a bit unnerved by the similarity he and Jake shared. They both had a problem with staring at their best friends and wishing they were more than that. He bit his lip, glancing down to his black Converse. At least he was subtle about it. At least he _hoped_ he was.

Jeremy was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of Rich’s voice.

“I mean, I knew you said you might take a while, but I didn’t realize it would take you two an extra _hour_ to get here,” he rambled, now looking right at Michael as he spoke. “You two must’ve got _busy_ on the way.” He wiggled his eyebrows at them, now looking at Jeremy as well, which made him _very_ uncomfortable.

Jeremy, for the second time, was immensely relieved that Michael was the one who answered. Not because he was nervous this time, but because he wasn’t sure he would be able to talk without his face flushing. 

While Jeremy silently cursed his pale skin, Michael rolled his eyes and shook his head, still slightly smirking at Rich. Jeremy knew that Rich wasn’t being serious, it was obvious, but Michael’s casual brushing off at the subject was a little painful. He knew he was taking this way too personally, but ever since he saw that strange look on Michael's face... he'd just felt uneasy.

Neither Michael nor Rich had said anything more, and Jake was still awkwardly sitting in the background. Jeremy scrambled for an idea of something to do, preferably with Michael, but it seemed Rich had beat him to it.

"So, Mell, since you took your sweet, sweet time getting here, wanna use the rest of it to, you know," he gave Michael a sly grin, " _play games_ with each other?"

Feeling slightly sick at Rich's joke, Jeremy returned his gaze to his feet, pretending he didn't care. Michael, on the other hand, rolled his eyes and chuckled, giving Rich a playful shove. "Shut up. That wasn't even funny. But, if you genuinely want to play _videogames,"_ he put a firm emphasis on the word, "then I'd be glad to."

A surge of disappointment seemed to enclose itself around Jeremy as Rich beamed. Michael turned back towards Jeremy, eyes slightly glinting in concern. "Are you okay with just chilling with Jake?"

Although it felt nice to know that Michael cared, it was starting to sink in that this may be nothing more than platonic. He glanced over at Michael once, but then firmly kept his gaze downcast. “Of course,” he tried to answer breezily as if he wasn’t starting to feel terribly upset. 

Michael gave him a simple smile and turned back to Rich, who tossed Jake a lazy peace sign and proceeded to grab Michael by the wrist and tug him to who-knows-where.

Hearing a soft sigh from inside the Jurassic Park booth, Jeremy turned his attention to Jake. Inside, he was wincing about how painfully obvious Jake was being. Was he even aware of it? With Jake, one didn’t know.

“So, er,” Jeremy started awkwardly, not knowing what to say. Maybe if he wasn’t internally struggling with conflicting (and probably unrequited) affections, he would be able to easily start a conversation. Then again, he had no conversational skills whatsoever when it came to people that weren’t Michael. He looked at Jake, who wasn’t smiling or frowning but simply giving him an unreadable expression. 

Jeremy sighed. Frankly, he had no idea if Jake was aware of how weird he was acting, but either way, it was a bit much. 

“A-are you, like, uh, ever gonna get out of that, er, booth?” he huffed quietly. After a year knowing Jake and the others, he’d grown to trust them and he didn’t find himself stuttering as much, but then again, he wasn’t feeling his best at the moment. 

Jake looked a bit startled, before giving him an awkward smile and sliding out to stand next to him. He was a bit shaky on his feet ever since the whole… Squip thing, but after months of physical therapy and pain medication, he’d regained the use of his legs again. Sure, they wouldn’t ever be back to how strong they were before, and he’d probably have leg issues for a long time, but he was lucky.

“Sorry,” Jake said after a moment, glancing down at Jeremy, still slightly smiling. “I just,” he hesitated, eyes flickering over to where they last saw Rich, “don’t feel like myself today.”

Ignoring the fact that Jake just told him a blatant lie, Jeremy tried to nod understandingly. “We all have days like that,” he tried to reassure him, even if he knew it was just an excuse. To be fair, he could relate, and without really realizing it, his words held some sort of double meaning. He did have days like that, where Michael felt so far away and Jeremy was left with the horrible feeling that he fell for the wrong person.

He felt a slight shiver overcome him. Had he accepted that he had no chance with Michael without realizing it? Just a while earlier, he’d felt so giddy with the possibility of Michael liking him in the same way, but now it seemed so unrealistic. He dug his fingernails into his palm slightly, trying to get himself to snap out of his self-deprecative state. 

Jake nodded slightly. He hesitated like he was about to suggest something when he let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not fooling anyone, am I?” his shoulders sagged slightly, his smile quickly disappearing.

“What do you mean?” Jeremy knew what he meant. But he played innocent, trying to give Jake his best "confused face." It probably didn’t help, seeing as all he did was scrunch up his eyebrows, lift a corner of his mouth, and squint his eyes, but Jeremy didn’t know what he was doing. To be honest, he ruefully admitted to himself that he looked less confused and more in pain, but Jake didn’t seem to take mind.

Stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets, Jeremy watched as Jake gave him a steely-eyed once over. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Yeah,” he lied, knowing fully well that he was awful at keeping things quiet. Unless Michael told him. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from cringing. He needed to _stop_ thinking about Michael for more than two seconds.

Jake leaned over, eyes narrowed as if this was some top-secret information he was about to share. He looked dead-serious, and Jeremy expected him to keep that expression throughout the interaction, but as soon as he opened his mouth his face morphed into an upset pout. “I like Rich,” he informed, arms crossed.

Not sure about whether to take a more positive or negative approach, Jeremy just ended up staring at him weirdly. He wasn’t sure if he should tease Jake about it-- then again, he wasn’t super good at teasing. Should he offer sympathy? He felt himself biting his lip again as he recalled the way Rich immediately invited Michael away to somewhere else. Somewhere away from _them._

When he looked back at Jake, he looked wide-eyed and slightly confused. “Uh, dude, are you okay?” he piped up after a moment, arms still loosely crossed. “You look like you’re about to be sick.”

“ _Oh-_ Um, no, I-I’m fine.” Wincing immediately after he said that, he noticed Jake giving him a dubious look. His stammer was a dead giveaway, wasn’t it? Or was he just an awful liar? He sighed and watched his feet as he scuffed his shoes against each other. “It’s really nothing,” he mumbled.

“What is it?”

Jeremy looked up at him, only a bit surprised. It wasn’t, like, a commanding tone. He sounded genuinely curious. He struggled for a moment, startled by the sudden want to confide everything in Jake. He fidgeted with his hands, feeling insecure. What if Jake made fun of him? What if he told Michael? What if Michael was somehow right there and he overheard? What if Jake didn’t actually like Rich and this was just a ploy to get Jeremy to spill all his secrets and--

“I like Michael,” he blurted out, slapping a hand over his mouth. He didn’t decide to tell Jake, but apparently, his lack of a filter decided to come into play right at that moment. He observed Jake’s face, worried that he’d give him some kind of _look_. To be honest, he didn’t understand what that meant, but he was worried nonetheless. In any case, he was ready for Jake to start laughing at him.

Jake raised his eyebrows slightly and breathed out a slight sigh of relief. “I was a bit worried that you liked Rich,” he admitted, dropping his arms back down to his sides. Jeremy could tell from his grin that he was trying to be positive about all this, but Jake didn’t meet his gaze once. His smile seemed to falter for a moment, but Jeremy didn’t know if he imagined it or not, for it soon returned brighter than ever in just a second. 

He shook his head. “Yeah, no.” His gaze returned downcast, suddenly finding a stain on the carpeted floor very interesting.

The tense and awkward silence soon returned, and Jeremy was all too aware that they were just standing outside of the Jurassic Park booth doing nothing. Rich and Michael were probably having a grand old time together, not giving a second thought about the two. Glancing at Jake, Jeremy felt that they both knew their situation was hopeless, even if it wasn’t said out loud. 

“You got any quarters?” Jake said suddenly. He fixed Jeremy with a bold stare, not smiling, but not necessarily looking sad.

Jeremy stared at him in silence, nodding a moment later. He started fishing in his pockets for the quarters Michael had tossed him earlier. “I’m, uh, assuming you don’t?”

Jake let out a soft chuckle, a hint of what might have been a real smile on his face. “I did, but Rich and I used them all on _that.”_ He tipped his head towards the booth they were still standing by. 

Jeremy gave him another nod, not knowing how to reply. Jake seemed to register this and motioned him forward, not looking at him as he spoke. “Let’s just forget about… them for now, yeah?” He glanced at Jeremy once, to make sure he heard, and started marching towards some other arcade game.

Following, Jeremy did his best to try and shake the thought of Michael and Rich away. It wouldn’t do anything but hurt him, seeing as Michael…

“Basketball?” Jeremy blurted out, as Jake stopped confidently in front of one of those... basketball shooting game things. He forced himself to keep his head in the present, and not in his mopey state of mind. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” Jake asked, longingly glancing back at the basketball game and back to Jeremy again. “They are your quarters, after all.”

 _Have fun with Jake. Have fun with Jake. Have fun with Jake._ He repeated these words to himself as a sort of mantra as he responded. “Go ahead,” he suggested, assuming Jake wanted to play by himself. 

Jake rolled his eyes and elbowed him in the ribs slightly--Jeremy tried to hide his wince of pain--and gave him a small, but not ingenuine, smile. “You’re playing too. Let’s see if you can beat me.” At Jeremy’s unimpressed expression, he shrugged. “You never know. Maybe you’re secretly a basketball genius.”

“Yeah, and Michael likes me back,” he mumbled spitefully, choosing to glance bitterly at the ground. Couldn’t he stop thinking about him for a _second?_ His slowly improving mood seemed to sour instantly, and Jake’s expression of mixed pity and hurt didn’t make him feel any better. Shoving forward stubbornly, he slipped the needed amount of quarters in the slots. “Let’s just play.”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

“Any sign of them?”

Jeremy looked up at the sound of Jake’s voice. The boy was slouched against the table the two had eventually resided at, which was located against the wall near the entrance. At first, Jeremy had been confused as to why there were tables until he remembered they were at a barcade. He silently thanked his _amazing_ memory.

Oh yeah. Jake had asked him a question.

“Still haven’t caught sight of them,” he answered with a sigh, relieved Jake didn’t question the amount of time it took him to answer. He guessed he’d gotten used to it at this point.

The silence was awkward. Although the two of them usually got along well, it was uncomfortable when they didn’t have something to talk about. Which, in today’s case, was a lot. Jeremy knew that there was the unmentioned topic regarding their… unrequited feelings, but Jeremy definitely didn’t want to get into that. It only made him feel worse. 

As if the universe decided to spite him, Jake glanced up a moment later, his expression slightly hesitant. “You… like Michael, right?” He glanced down at the table, tone revealing nothing.

“U-uh…” Jeremy, slightly surprised, glanced around nervously before lowering his voice. “Y-yeah? Didn’t I, like, a-already tell you t-that?” He felt a slight stab of annoyance coil in his gut as he stuttered through his reply, paranoid Michael or Rich would suddenly appear and hear everything.

It wasn’t a completely irrational fear; Jake wasn’t… exactly _quiet._

“Michael loves you,” he declared, to which Jeremy raised his eyebrows, cheeks slightly flushed. Before he could protest, Jake held up his hand. “Not like, romantically, dude. But he loves you.”

“Cool beans,” he hissed through clenched teeth, not seeing what the point of this stupid conversation was. Man, he needed to chill out. If only he could be as cool as those beans were.

“I think…” Jake swallowed, looking uncharacteristically unsure. He radiated a lack of confidence. “I think we need to do something… about them.” Jeremy could hear his foot tapping lightly against the floor.

“A-and this relates how?” he asked incredulously, raising his eyebrows again. (If he could, he would only raise one eyebrow, but he didn’t know how. Michael could, which Jeremy was internally envious of, but that’s not the point.)

“Just… listen. I know it doesn’t sound, like, _nice…_ but do Rich and Michael even _have_ to end up together?” Before Jeremy could even respond, he continued. “Do they even like each other all that much? I don’t know about you, but… I really like Rich. A lot.” He was clearly blushing, which just led Jeremy to pray that Rich and Michael weren’t watching them at this moment.

But yeah… he did like Michael. A lot, as Jake had put it. He didn’t even know when it had started. All he knew was that at some point, his platonic feelings had morphed into, well, something stronger. He wasn’t one of those people who instantly gushed about how _in love_ they were, and he knew it. He wasn’t in love with Michael, he wouldn’t assume something that brash anymore (maybe Jeremy from a year or two ago would disagree, but he hoped he was somewhat smarter at this point) but he did love him. He’d always been there for him. Even after the SQUIP, Jeremy somehow lucked out and still had him on his side. Sure, it wasn’t easy, but it felt like it had always been him and Michael against the world, together. His heart clenched when he remembered that Michael didn’t reciprocate these feelings. What even was he to Michael anymore? It wasn’t like Jeremy was his _favorite person_ or anything. Did he even mean that much?

“Dude? You okay?”

Jake was looking at him, face creased in concern. Jeremy bit his lip and shook himself slightly, plastering on a smile to appease Jake. 

“I’m fine.” He forced out a chuckle, blinking innocently. “I- I just spaced out.” His stutter seemed to have taken a hold of him this evening, but Jake didn’t seem to care. Jake didn’t know when he was lying. Jake didn’t even know that he didn’t usually stutter in front of his friends unless something was wrong. Only one person knew that. And he was off flirting with their former high school bully.

He internally hit himself for thinking like that. What was _wrong_ with him? Rich wasn’t… he was their _friend._ He deserved someone as kind and supportive as Michael. _Jeremy_ sure didn’t.

A corner of Jake’s mouth twitched into a slight smile. “Good. Uh, anyways,” his smile quickly dropped, “what I was saying. I think… I think you should shoot your shot. With Michael, to be clear. Like, I know you don’t like Rich like that but I figured it was important to clarify anyways… yanno?”

No, Jeremy didn’t know, but what he did know was that this was a _horrible_ idea. 

“That’s a horrible idea!” he lashed out, breaking his calm exterior. He felt himself gripping onto the seat, lowkey disgusted by a wet spot next to him, but too emotional to fully notice.

He expected Jake to look hurt, disappointed, something like that. But all the other boy did was fixate him with an impatient look. “Listen, Jeremy,” he started sternly, about to give him some dumb rant about how he should confess to Michael and _blah blah blah._

“No.” Jeremy heard his voice go cold, and he didn’t even care. Jake could deal with a few hurt feelings. His entire life was one big Disney Channel show. Perfect kid with perfect friends (at least, before him) and in a perfect social position amongst his peers. Sure, he’d never met his family, but Jake never talked about them, so it was easy to assume they were perfect as well.

...Was he always this bitter?

“...Fine. But I still think--” Jake was cut off when Jeremy abruptly stood up, shooting him a frosty glare. He sighed, and followed Jeremy, who internally had no idea where he was going, but then again, when did he ever? All he knew was that he needed to distract himself. He only had a few quarters leftover, so it had to be something they could play together…

Pac-Man. Jeremy didn’t realize he was walking up to the game until he stood right in front of it. The pixelated graphics running across the screen seemed to call to him, and it was the four-player version of Pac-Man, so Jake could play too. Jake had told him earlier that he got to pick the next game since he practically dragged Jeremy to play basketball. (Which he’d horribly lost. So much for being a “secret basketball genius.” Whatever that even meant in the first place.)

“Can we… can we play this?” Jeremy asked tentatively, glancing at Jake. He was relieved when Jake simply nodded, a thin smile pressed against his lips. He almost expected him to say something more, but all the other boy did was sit on one of the small stools that were seated around the game screen.

As the familiar electronic tune played out, Jeremy felt himself start to calm down. His life didn’t revolve around Michael. This kind of dependency wasn’t good for him. For once during this outing, he felt at peace, and there was finally a comfortable quietness between the two as they played.

“I lost,” Jake pouted after a few minutes of silence, leaving Jeremy smiling. 

“It’s not my fault I’m better than you,” he said back, “Michael… Michael and I used to play Pac-Man a lot. Together. Not here, but like. We’d take turns hunching over the stereotypical arcade-style Pac-Man, not this kind, trying to see who could do the best.” He fondly traced his fingers along the screen as he remembered. “It was him, by the way. He always was the best at games. Still is. He’s… he’s just the best in general. I don’t know what I’d do without him. I don’t deserve him, I never have, yet… yet he sticks with me.” He found himself softly smiling until he remembered Jake was watching him and he embarrassingly looked away, picking at his fingernails. 

After a prolonged moment, he glanced warily at Jake, only to see him staring back at Jeremy with a mixture of gentle wonder and... affection? Something of the sort.

“W-what?” Jeremy stammered self-consciously, uncomfortable by the tense atmosphere he’d accidentally created.

“You need to tell him.” Jake’s words were quiet but firm. “Jeremy…” his voice trailed off as if he didn’t know what to say. He blinked at Jeremy, smiling slightly. 

“I…” Jake’s eyes. They were too much. He looked away. “I can’t. You know how that would go.” He felt his voice turn bitter again as he went on. “Maybe I love Michael, but does that mean he likes me back? No. You… you saw him with Rich. Hey-- is this what this is about?”

Jake looked startled, but Jeremy relentlessly continued. “I bet the only reason why you’re trying to convince me to ask Michael out is that you like Rich. You’re hoping that if I can convince Michael to date… date _me,_ that you’ll be able to swoop over and snatch up Rich. Well, guess what? _It’s not gonna happen._ Michael doesn’t like me! He likes Rich! Rich likes Michael! _He doesn’t like you!”_

He breathed out heavily, feeling his eyes sting. He didn’t dare look at Jake, already feeling levels of immense guilt. Letting out heaves of breath, trying so hard not to cry, he ran his shaking, sweaty hands through his hair. He tasted blood from the cheek that he was biting with no mercy. God, he was such a baby. No wonder Michael didn’t like him back? He was over-dramatic. Ugly. _Disgusting._ Michael deserved so, so much better of a best friend… if that’s what he even was to him anymore. He shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t even be here--

“Hey, Jeremy.”

Jake’s voice, oddly soothing, snapped him out of his cycle. He was still trembling fiercely, and he was barely aware of Jake’s hand on his as he glanced shakingly at him. 

If Jake was hurt by Jeremy’s words, he didn’t show it. “Dude, I wouldn’t ever ask you to do something like that for me. And in that way.” He paused for a moment. “I don’t… I don’t know what will happen if-- _when_ you confess. But…” Struggling for words, Jake’s hand seemed to clench tighter around his before he continued, and he was all too aware of Jake’s eyes on him. 

“Just… Michael deserves someone who cares as much as you do. I don’t know how much Rich likes him, but it can’t be stronger than what you have. Like you’ve said, you’ve been together through everything despite what life’s thrown at you.

“Besides, if just the sight of an arcade game makes you think about him in such a strong way,” he gave him a wry smile, “then I think it’s worth a shot.”

Jeremy hesitantly looked up to meet Jake’s gaze for a moment, surprised by how fragile his expression seemed to look. Once again he felt the swirl of guilt pool in him. Why had he said those things to him? He didn’t deserve Jake’s gentle wisdom.

Suddenly fully aware that they were more or less holding hands, Jeremy jerked his hand out of Jake’s grip, feeling flustered. He really, really hoped that Rich or Michael didn’t see that. To his relief, Jake didn’t look offended--why would he?--he simply gave him a small smile, one that Jeremy hoped was genuine.

Taking a moment to catch his breaths, Jeremy thought over what Jake was suggesting once more. It wasn’t that he thought it would turn out well, or that he suddenly gained a burst of confidence, he just… he wanted to get it off his chest. He wanted Michael to know how much he meant to him, even if he probably wouldn’t appreciate it. 

Unless…

No. He couldn’t get his hopes up. He knew Michael liked Rich. It only made sense… Why else would he be so clearly fond of him? Even if it wasn’t much, Jeremy didn’t miss the slight smiles he offered Rich, and the hesitant glances at him. Why else would he invite Rich? He probably only let Jake come because he wanted to be nice.

Jeremy whipped his head up to stare at Jake with wide-eyes, suddenly having an epiphany. Maybe Michael was just trying to be extra friendly to Rich.

It sort of made sense. Maybe Rich was still feeling a bit isolated, and Michael noticed, and was trying to be nicer to him… hence why Rich caught feelings. Jeremy needed to confess to Michael so that Rich realized he was off-limits. He needed to be more interested in Jake.

Jake looked slightly concerned, mainly because Jeremy was still staring at him with wide owl-eyes. At least, that's what Jeremy assumed. He rolled his shoulders slightly, back aching due to how much he was hunching over the table.

Blinking, Jeremy gave him a shallow nod, heart racing. “I- I need--” he stood up and ran a hand through his hair once more. What did he need? He needed something, he just couldn’t put the words to it. “I- I need t-to tell him.”

Jake looked confused, most likely because of Jeremy’s sudden change in attitude. Jeremy couldn’t blame him; he was confused himself. Trying to steady his breaths, he gave Jake a firm, but steady nod.

“You… you’re right,” he explained, clenching his hands together to try and divert his attention away from Jake’s piercing stare. He shifted awkwardly, aware of most of his weight being directed towards his left leg. _Was_ Jake right, though? Was Jeremy just jumping to conclusions?

All his thoughts narrowed down to Rich. Giving Michael gentle smiles and soft kisses, opening up his sensitive side to someone he truly loved. Rich holding Michael’s warm hands in his, intertwining their fingers in a delicate, intimate motion. Rich taking up all of Michael’s time, for video game marathons and chaotic activities that once belonged to Michael and Jeremy alone.

Jake was right. He had to be.

The boy whose opinion was in question gave him a hesitant grin as if he wasn’t really convinced that Jeremy was telling the truth. There was nothing Jeremy could do to assure him, the only thing he could do next was to take action. He didn’t want to. But he _had_ to.

“I-I’m going to find Michael and Rich.” After delivering this information to Jake, he started backing away, but not without waiting for any verbal reply from Jake that he might have. He’d been silent for a good amount of time now, so maybe he had something important to tell him.

Noticing Jeremy’s hesitation, Jake huffed out a smile. “Go get ‘em, Jeremy,” he whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. “I know you can do it.” Jeremy wanted to retort back at him, wanted to mock him for his lame cliché statement. 

But then he really looked at the other teen. Jake looked vaguely relieved and hopeful. Maybe he was trying to hide it, but he must have been anticipating a time where Rich’s crush was taken. His brown eyes were widened ever-so-slightly with a sliver of curious impatience, and his leg was bouncing slightly as he stared at Jeremy.

So he didn’t.

“Thanks… Thanks, Jake.” He bit his lip, wanting to comment on how unsure he was. This wouldn’t ever work. Just because Michael didn’t like Rich didn’t mean he automatically liked _him._ At the very least, he presumed, it would send Rich a message. Hopefully.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Walking through the Barcade, Jeremy’s eyes were narrowed in frustration as he prowled the floors in search of his friend. It’d been lucky they didn’t encounter each other before, he supposed, but now was not the time for them to disappear off the grid. It took a lot of perseverance to keep going; it was a bit unnerving being all alone in such a bright and noisy place. (The sticky alcohol stains on the carpet didn’t really help much either.)

He’d been using the time to run through the scenario in his head. He needed to get these words planned out in concrete-solid detail. Michael needed to understand how important he was to him. 

_Hey, Michael. This might sound kind of weird, especially from me, but I think you need to hear it anyways._

Walk faster. Eyes glued not to the floor, but the people, scanning for the splash of red that was Michael’s hoodie.

_Actually, I would like it if we could talk in private. Nothing against you, Rich, I just don’t think hearing this will be necessary._

Avoid eye-contact. Just glance around as fast as possible. Walk _faster._

_So… I’m sure you probably already know what this is about; just hear me out. I don’t even know when it started, all I know is that one day I found myself thinking some very odd thoughts…_

Swivel down the rounded corner. Towards the bar portion of the arcade, the opposite end from where he and Jake had been. Were they in the booths somewhere?

 _It’s like, we’ve been friends for almost forever- I don’t know about you, but I consider you my_ best _friend. But recently… it’s almost like you’ve become so much more than that._

The phrase of someone’s heart skipping a beat was so overused, yet, Jeremy could honestly say that was what it felt like when he recognized the lazy-postured sit, and the face he’d seen many, many times before in a few booths just ahead of him. He quickened his pace again, breaths heavy as he marched closer to Michael.

_See… Michael--_

“--I think I like you.”

Rich. Rich’s voice.

It hurt to pull his gaze from the floor, where it had flown as soon as those words had been uttered. Glancing at Rich with a fragile expression, Jeremy slipped into the booth closest to him and crouched in it, trying his best to catch the rest of Rich’s whisper.

For a loud, boisterous boy like Rich, he was acting somewhat reserved, if not vulnerable. It suddenly occurred to Jeremy that he hadn’t tried his hardest to shift all of his thinking about Rich. He was starting to realize that subconsciously, he still associated some of his traits from when Rich was squipped with him now.

Trying to ignore how awful this made him feel, Jeremy cautiously peered up, thankful that Michael wasn’t on the side where he could see him. Rich seemed plenty distracted, so if he didn’t do anything loud or rash, he most likely wouldn’t be spotted.

But it also meant he couldn’t see how Michael physically reacted.

He sat in absolute silence, breathing silently as he waited for a response.

But Michael never spoke. Instead, Rich had started talking again, eyes flickering from Michael to the table as he tried to speak without a wavering tone. Jeremy strained to try and hear what Rich was murmuring, but it seemed that he’d since lowered his voice. All Jeremy could do was watch Rich’s head tilt slightly as he ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair, cheeks flushed as he seemed to ramble on.

If he had felt any hope before, it was certainly gone now. Was he this stupid, to ever think this would work? Even if Michael didn't like Rich, he was definitely a better pick than _Jeremy,_ if he even picked anyone at all.

After a moment, Jeremy let his gaze wander over to Michael. Well, more specifically, the back of Michael’s head. Jeremy hadn’t noticed it earlier, but after Rich started his confession, he was no longer casually leaning against the seat like he usually did. He was still resting against the seat, but his shoulders looked stiff and tight, just like the rest of him.

Maybe Michael didn’t like Rich back.

Trying his best to dampen down the fluttery tingle of excitement at that thought, Jeremy shifted forward slightly, desperately trying to hear Michael’s response. Michael’s rejection. He bit his lip slightly, unable to stifle a pang of sympathy for Rich. This could have been him. It might still be.

No. He furrowed his brow as he waited for Michael’s voice, trying to convince himself that this _would_ work. He barely even noticed how hard he was digging his nails into the squishy backside of the booth as he listened. Michael seemed to be taking a lot of time to think. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Michael rubbed his eyes slightly and opened his mouth to answer until he was interrupted by the loud thump of sneakers that sounded abruptly as a figure ran into view.

Jeremy whipped his head to the right, instinctively glaring at whoever cut off Michael’s response. The moment he did, though, he felt his breath catch in his throat. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t part of the plan.

Jake was standing, arms crossed, staring at Rich and Michael with unusual intensity. He must have sprinted after Jeremy, judging by how he was taking slightly deep breaths and a few drops of sweat glistened on his forehead. (One thing Jeremy noted, though, was that he didn’t look winded in the slightest, unlike his personal experiences. One of the perks of actually being fit, he assumed.)

Michael turned around slightly, fixing Jake with a confused expression. He must’ve taken Jake’s sudden urgent approach the wrong way because he started to look a bit worried. “Jake? Where’s Jeremy? Is he okay?”

If Jeremy hadn’t overheard their conversation, he wouldn’t have even assumed anything romantic of the sort had taken place. Michael was sitting up straight with a stiff posture, but other than that he seemed as normal as usual. Even Rich, the one who had just confessed and hadn’t even received a reply, could just be taken as startled.

“No? That’s why I’m here. He’s supposed to be with you.”

Jeremy prayed that for the sake of him that Jake _shut up._ He had made a solid plan in his head for a reason, and Rich’s confession had already thrown it way off course. Now Michael was gonna know that he was spying on him like a weirdo, and why? He winced. Yeah, this was not the way this was supposed to go.

Michael glanced around as if Jeremy would suddenly appear. When he obviously did not, he sighed and finally relaxed his posture. “Why would he be with me? He knew… He knew I wanted to spend this time,” his gaze flickered to Rich for a moment, “with Rich.”

With Rich. Alone, with Rich. Without Jeremy. When he was present, Michael seemed to take all his feelings into account and seemed a bit unhappy to be without him. But here? When he thought Jeremy wasn’t listening? It… it sounded like Michael was trying to get rid of him.

Before Jeremy could divulge into another wreck of sloppy, paranoid thoughts pasted together, Jake spoke up again. His voice was rising in volume to the point that Jeremy felt himself instinctively wince farther into the booth seat.

“Where is he?” Jake demanded again, seeming upset and confused about what was going on. “He was _supposed_ to be here! With _you!_ ” He grabbed a fistful of his hair, his gaze wandering towards Rich every so often before forcing himself to look at Michael. “You’re supposed… to be together. Not… not with _him.”_

Jeremy, being the emotional disaster he was, felt close to tears. He hated when people yelled… especially Jake. He was such a calm and happy-go-lucky guy most of the time, but the times where he lost control were horrible. Like… like on Halloween.

Trying to contain his strangled breathing, Jeremy felt himself digging his fingernails into his palm. He needed to keep a level head. Michael was saying something, but Jeremy couldn't even hear. Suddenly, he felt a forceful hand grip on the back of his shirt, dragging him out of the booth. 

He let out a shriek of terror, not fully processing what was happening. His breaths were coming in shallow gasps, and after a moment of blank shock, he recognized Jake, whose face was nothing more than anger.

What was happening? He tried to listen to Jake’s shouting, but without previous context, it did nothing to help his terror. He turned watery eyes towards Michael, who looked shocked, eyes widened as he scanned Jeremy’s face to find an answer.

 _“Jeremy?”_ His friend sounded confused… and a bit hurt. “Wh...what are you doing? Are you _spying_ on me?” He looked like he wanted to be mad, but he seemed just mind-boggled. His eyes were narrowed, but the light of curiosity still lingered in their brown depths, and his hands were tapping on the table with a light, unsteady rhythm.

Jake beat him to respond. To be fair, Jeremy didn’t even know if he could talk at the moment without bursting into tears like the weakling he was. 

“I _told_ you,” he snapped, “Jeremy was _supposed_ to find you and--”

No.

“--tell you all about his _big, gay crush on you!”_

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Rich wore a look of confusion and mingled intimidation from Jake’s wild attitude, while Michael just looked… out of it. He looked at Jeremy like he could see through him, eyes dull as if spacing out. They were still widened, and his mouth was open only the tiniest bit. 

Even in his erratic state, Jeremy could tell one thing.

Whatever Michael was feeling right now, his face lacked reflection of one thing:

Joy. Happiness. Positivity. Whatever you want to call it. He looked like he was starting to come to terms with Jake’s brash claim, and less spacey like before, but that didn’t change the fact that he didn’t look _happy._

He prepared himself for his rejection. The moment where his entire world fell apart. Where what was left of Michael and Jeremy’s friendship fell apart. But the words that Michael spoke weren’t relevant to that at all.

“Jake. _Put him down.”_ He seemed upset, and Jeremy wasn’t surprised. Dumb, stupid Jeremy, always doing the wrong thing at the right time. Jeremy, who apparently can’t ever settle with one person. Jeremy _,_ who got the chance to date the girl of his _dreams,_ but ended up ruining that too because he was _Jeremy._ Jeremy… who liked his best friend. The worst part of it all was that Jeremy couldn’t even know for sure if Michael was going to be his best friend after this.

He _had_ to be. Jeremy couldn’t even imagine his life without Michael. Was there, really, life without him? They’d always been together. Even… even after the SQUIP. That _had_ to count for something, right? If Michael could forgive him for that… he could forgive this, right?

Right?

He was so out of it that he didn’t even notice that he was no longer being held up like some limp ragdoll. Instead, Michael was holding on to him best he could without being… too intimate… and had left his booth to support him.

Jeremy was disgusted. Not by Michael, or his arm wrapped around him, god, no, but the fact that even after all of this that he still felt some hope. As if just because his friend cared about his well-being that he’d suddenly fall in love with him. He was an _idiot._ Why couldn’t he just accept it?

“I’m… I’m going to take Jeremy home.” Michael sounded quiet and lacked his usual tone of voice. He sounded soft, worried… sad. “I… I think you and Rich need to talk.” He was talking mainly to Jake, but Jeremy didn’t miss the careful glance at Rich. A glance that said too much. A glance that said, “we’re going to talk later, too, even if I’ve made it clear I feel the same way.”

Jeremy felt sick.

Time felt blurry, rushed, but all too slow as Michael lugged him to his car. Even when he did things on his own--stumble into the car seat, for example--it was like everything was just _wrong._ Surreal was putting it lightly. 

Silence filled the car air as Michael drove to Jeremy’s house. Silence was normal. Jeremy shouldn’t feel so nauseous, right? It was always silent. It gave Jeremy time to think. About Michael. About anything, really.

This silence felt all wrong. There wasn’t even the comforting background noise of Michael’s music as the car ride continued. Michael wasn’t smiling, just blankly staring at the road as he drove. He looked mechanical. Like a robot. He didn’t once look at Jeremy, even when Jeremy tried to meet his gaze. He wanted Michael to say something. Anything.

Even rejection would be good at this point.

He wanted confirmation that everything was going to be fine. That they were going to stay friends, that this wouldn’t change anything. Even if Michael rubbed it in that he and Rich were…together or something… he would prefer that to _this._ His eyes stung, and it just sank in that he must’ve been sobbing back there. As he slowly faded back into the real world, everything was becoming noticeable to him.

The aching on his neck from Jake gripping him up. The tear-stains drying on his cheeks. His hands, which were trembling violently. All of it seemed to slowly crawl into consciousness, wrapping around him like fierce tendrils. 

Jeremy started to try and put together what had happened despite the difficulty of said task. He found his panicked memory slippery and hard to look back on, blurred smudges of tears and Michael merging into a surreal mess of wrong, wrong, _wrong._

Was he mad at Jake?

Most people would be. It was technically his fault, after all.

But in all honesty, Jeremy had no idea. He was _definitely_ not happy Jake had done so, but in reality, Jeremy was more-so mad at himself. If he hadn’t fallen for Michael in the first place, there wouldn’t have ever been a reason to be mad at Jake.

Before he could divulge into another tangent of messy self-deprecating thoughts, he was snapped awake into reality by the rough gravelly noise of Michael pulling over. He instinctively glanced out, feeling his heart sink as he recognized his house. The sound of Michael’s quiet breathing lasted for only a heartbeat, for a moment later he spoke. 

“I…” he seemed lost for words. Not in a shy, flustered sort of way, but a confused, distanced daydream. “I think it’s best if, well,” he frustratedly gave the steering wheel a few taps with his fingers, “if we take a break.”

Jeremy blinked, the words not striking any meaning in him. “Take… a break?” He echoed, wincing when he heard a note of fear slip through his words. It couldn’t mean what he thought it did. Michael didn’t mean it like that. He would never mean it like that.

Right?

“Listen, Jeremy.” The sudden force of irritation that was apparent in Michael’s tone caught Jeremy off-guard. “I’m trying to be, like, I don’t know-- calm about this?” He ran a hand through his hair. Honestly, Jeremy didn’t even know if irritation was the right word for it. He felt infinitely guilty every time he looked at Michael… It was like this knowledge was too much for him to comprehend. 

He would be back to normal tomorrow. He'd text Jeremy saying sorry, and it would be awkward, but they'd still be friends. It wasn't a _huge_ deal. Right? Michael was his _friend._ Michael cared about him. Like... like earlier today! And the other time they hung out... like, a month ago! 

A month ago. 

He couldn't do anything but sit there in shock as thoughts clicked into place. Jeremy had _tried_ to make plans, but Michael would seem genuinely disappointed that he couldn't make it. Even their usual sort of banter felt clunky when he looked back on it.

A sudden, overwhelming burst of panic spiraled into Jeremy’s chest as he fully realized what Michael was trying to say. “I-I’m sorry!” he insisted, “I- I wasn’t e-ever gonna tell you, I swear! I was- I was fine with you being w-with Rich-- I just-- please don’t leave me, Michael, please--”

“Jeremy, this is for the best--”

“It’s not _fair!”_ Jeremy interrupted, dangerously close to hysterics. He _knew_ he was overreacting, and that freaking out wasn’t going to help his situation at all, but he just couldn’t help it. He _couldn’t_ lose Michael. Even if it was temporary, Michael would probably find life better without him. He sure seemed to try and have him gone most of the time anyway. Didn’t Michael deserve the best, anyway? Should he just stop resisting and let their friendship end? He was just being _selfish_.

Michael looked a bit off-put by Jeremy’s sudden outburst, but his tone didn’t waver as he started talking again. “Just… please, Jeremy, go inside.”

“But- like, you can’t-- Michael, _please,_ I’m sorry--” he didn’t even know what he was saying anymore. He just _needed_ that look in Michael’s eyes to change from slightly dullish resilience to something… something else. It didn’t remind him of Michael. He wanted the concerned and caring expression Michael always wore when Jeremy was upset like this. 

With a horrible feeling of dread Jeremy realized that even when Michael was yelling at Jake, he still didn’t look genuinely _worried._

When... when was the last time Michael had seemed worried for Jeremy? Not, like, for simple things. But _worry._ Jeremy worried about Michael a lot more than he used to. He wasn't even sure if it was because of the SQUIP or because of how he felt. 

His eyes stung as he stared at Michael with wide-eyes, trying to see even a hint of guilt, just _anything._ He felt cold foreboding as his friend(?) turned his head away to stare out of the fogged window.

“I didn’t want to say it like this,” he began, voice noticeably quieter than before. “But I really just… don’t think you’re listening. To me.

“What Jake said… it was true, wasn’t it? You never, well, really denied it. I just… I can’t believe it. Honest. I still feel like you really don’t. Like me. Like that.” Michael went on to ramble about something about how if ‘it had been earlier he would have _definitely_ not believed it’ or like ‘this probably wouldn’t be happening right now if it’d been last year’ but he had skimmed over that part with a casual speed. Jeremy’s half-spacing out didn’t help either. 

“I- I don’t get what this has to do with, um--”

“I need space from you,” Michael blurted out, interrupting him. “Or vice versa. We need time apart, okay?” His tone seemed to rise in pitch for his last words, to which he stopped speaking and fiddled with his glasses for a moment. His voice had lowered to its previous octave when he continued. “I don’t like you, Jeremy. I… I don’t think I ever will aga--” he cut himself off at the last word, glanced down for a moment, and then continued with a roll of his shoulders. “I want you to get over me.”

Silence. Jeremy couldn’t speak. He wasn’t gaping with wide, dramatic eyes or anything dumb like that. He was just staring at Michael, staring as if it would take back what he said. Did Michael really want this? Weren’t… weren’t they friends? His thoughts at this point spun on like a broken record, with no grasp of anything Michael had uttered. 

“Please, Michael-- I can get over you, I promise, just please-- we _need_ to be friends, please--” his voice rose in pitch as he grew more fearful at the way Michael’s brow creased in irritation. “You’re not allowed to _abandon_ me!”

“And why not?” With a cutting tone, Michael finally faced him, eyes narrowed as his patience seemed to run out. “Didn’t seem to stop you.” Before Jeremy could get upset over him digging up old wounds--ones that he’d _thought_ they’d finally fixed in the past year--Michael rubbed his face with his hands, setting his glasses on his lap. “Just… get out of my car. Please.”

Stumbling out of his seat with even more clumsiness than usual, Jeremy could barely manage to stand as he closed the door and watched Michael speed away. Not once did his former best friend look at him.

Jeremy couldn’t breathe.

He didn’t know when he had started crying; but his sobs were coming out in heaves as he clutched his sides, kneeling over as if it would help the horrible searing pain in his heart. He couldn’t even tell if his eyes were open or closed, for all he saw was foggy blurs of color and shadows that might have not even been real. Every part of him seemed to sting, and he couldn’t shake the awful sound of a choked wail out of his head. After a moment he realized it was coming from him. 

He felt dizzy after a moment, gasping for air as he felt his cries cease to an unsteady stop. His legs buckled as he fell to the ground, sitting crookedly on the sidewalk. He couldn’t even tell how long he’d been there, hunched over himself, when he heard his father from the doorstep. He sounded worried, probably shocked by Jeremy’s awful state.

“Jeremy? Jeremy, are you okay? Son?” his father’s concerned voice made no sense to Jeremy’s ears, the words passing over him without a second thought. After a few seconds of sudden unbalance, he realized that his father was probably trying to carry him to the house. He let him.

He didn’t want to answer his dad’s original question. He didn’t have the words that his father wanted to hear. Because, no, he wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay because he’d gone to the Barcade with Michael, thinking it could have been the start to something more. He wasn’t okay because his stupid crush was for sure unrequited. He wasn’t okay because even though Jake and him had been in the same boat, _Jeremy_ was the one who had lost the one person that meant the most to him. And he probably wouldn’t ever get him back.

The gentle voice of worry rose again. “Jeremy? Is there anything I can do?”

A moment of silence. One moment to listen to the ringing in his ears, to feel the sting of tears on his flushed cheeks, just one to decide what words to say. One last moment to miss Michael, and all the future moments they would never get to have. Not once more would he see the hazy look of happiness, the smile lines near his face wrinkling whenever he let a cheeky grin through, the way his eyes would crinkle whenever he laughed. 

One last moment before he had to let go.

Soon, his moment of silence was over.

He turned his head up to his dad, trying to force a hint of a smile on his face. Once he managed to tame his breathing to an inaudible sound, he let himself speak.

“It’s... it’s okay Dad. I’m fine.”


End file.
